Some background to what follows can be found here. Other installments are here.
I started this as a way to train at touch typing (hence the title) which I have finally taken up learning more or less seriously. At first I was typing what nonsense came across my mind and deleted it once I had finished. Gradually, it just turned into a diary relating the events (not very numerous) of my life. This has also the advantage of keeping me relatively busy at work when I have nothing else to do which seem to happen rather frequently these days.
02 April 2002
A long and busy week-end that was. It was Easter and for that reason the week-end comprised two Bank Holidays.
I went for my run on Friday morning and although I ran for an hour I did not feel as tired as the previous times and felt it was altogether easier than usual. The training seems to be starting to have an effect at last.
In the afternoon I went to MPB’s in Twickenham to help her rearrange the furniture in her room. In the evening, it had been arranged with my flatmates that we would all be going to a bar in Soho and then to Heaven.
I had just the time on my way back from MPB’s to grab a bit of food before heading to Barselona on Old Compton Street accompanied by T. who had been waiting for me. B. and J. were there already together with several of their friends, all of them in different degree of drunkenness. We did not stay very long and soon decided to make a move towards the club as we had to be there rather early for our vouchers to be valid.
We never made to the club though. It took sometime to settle down the bill (about £100 !!!) and then J. was sick on the pavement outside the bar and started to cry.
After a while everyone decided to go home and the party broke off. I will not comment on this evening, as it is not far away on my list of the worst parties I have been to behind the Polish party related earlier on these pages. I had a short stroll around Soho and then went back home.
Saturday was uneventful. On Sunday I had arranged to meet with P. at one at Waterloo Station. We had decided to go to Hampstead Heath but the weather proving a bit menacing at the last minute, we decided for a stroll around the West End. We ended up at the Wallace Collection of which we did not see much as we very quickly sat down on a sofa and started chatting. After a while we made our way back to Soho and went for a drink at the Box (We saw Aiden Shaw on the way).
We spent a couple of hours there bitching about our fellow patrons and rather enjoyed ourselves a as result. We also discuss my taste in men and that sort of thing. P. seems to be very eager to see me “hitched” as he puts it. And is actually rather helpful with his advice. I am getting rather desperate myself regarding this and would really like to meet someone soon. We then walked aimlessly in Soho, not really knowing what to do or where to go until we settled down for having some food at a small, cheap, tacky Italian restaurant on Old Compton Street where we related our respective experiences with men. We said good night at Piccadilly Circus around 8.
On Monday afternoon, I went to Camden Town with T., J. and a girlfriend of hers, E.. We went from café to café, and from shop to shop and had a really good time. I really enjoyed the atmosphere and the crowd there. I think I will go back there more regularly.
I tried on a leather long coat and a kilt but was not sure about either purchase and ended up buying nothing. This is just as well as my six month contract starts this month and I will be without much money until pay day at the end of the month.
Towards the end of the day, we went to Old Compton Street (again!) to meet up with B. and E.’s boyfriend, A., who had been working at a recording studio and were now waiting for us at Bar Italia. On the way I had a glimpse of GSJ was has given up any contact again. He was seated on a terrace at the corner of Frith Street. He seemed to have dyed his hair blond.
I did not stop to talk to him but managed a bright and foolish “hiya” totally out of place since he did not seem to pleased to see me.
Apart form the aborted night on Friday, I had very good time this week end and was feeling a bit down at the idea of going back to work. Next week end might be quite enjoyable too but things can still change.
I really want to try and meet someone now as I am really fed up of being on my own. I have a profile on 3 different Internet sites and hope that someone interesting will finally take notice of me. I have also decided to go to clubs where I am more likely to meet muscley guys. I will go to Peckham’s gym tonight to enquire about their price and will seriously consider joining (I might meet someone there but most of all I do not think I can hope catching a guy like I am dreaming about if I am not more stocky and also I would feel more at ease with myself and more confidant if I like the way I look).
I started this as a way to train at touch typing (hence the title) which I have finally taken up learning more or less seriously. At first I was typing what nonsense came across my mind and deleted it once I had finished. Gradually, it just turned into a diary relating the events (not very numerous) of my life. This has also the advantage of keeping me relatively busy at work when I have nothing else to do which seem to happen rather frequently these days.
02 April 2002
A long and busy week-end that was. It was Easter and for that reason the week-end comprised two Bank Holidays.
I went for my run on Friday morning and although I ran for an hour I did not feel as tired as the previous times and felt it was altogether easier than usual. The training seems to be starting to have an effect at last.
In the afternoon I went to MPB’s in Twickenham to help her rearrange the furniture in her room. In the evening, it had been arranged with my flatmates that we would all be going to a bar in Soho and then to Heaven.
I had just the time on my way back from MPB’s to grab a bit of food before heading to Barselona on Old Compton Street accompanied by T. who had been waiting for me. B. and J. were there already together with several of their friends, all of them in different degree of drunkenness. We did not stay very long and soon decided to make a move towards the club as we had to be there rather early for our vouchers to be valid.
We never made to the club though. It took sometime to settle down the bill (about £100 !!!) and then J. was sick on the pavement outside the bar and started to cry.
After a while everyone decided to go home and the party broke off. I will not comment on this evening, as it is not far away on my list of the worst parties I have been to behind the Polish party related earlier on these pages. I had a short stroll around Soho and then went back home.
Saturday was uneventful. On Sunday I had arranged to meet with P. at one at Waterloo Station. We had decided to go to Hampstead Heath but the weather proving a bit menacing at the last minute, we decided for a stroll around the West End. We ended up at the Wallace Collection of which we did not see much as we very quickly sat down on a sofa and started chatting. After a while we made our way back to Soho and went for a drink at the Box (We saw Aiden Shaw on the way).
We spent a couple of hours there bitching about our fellow patrons and rather enjoyed ourselves a as result. We also discuss my taste in men and that sort of thing. P. seems to be very eager to see me “hitched” as he puts it. And is actually rather helpful with his advice. I am getting rather desperate myself regarding this and would really like to meet someone soon. We then walked aimlessly in Soho, not really knowing what to do or where to go until we settled down for having some food at a small, cheap, tacky Italian restaurant on Old Compton Street where we related our respective experiences with men. We said good night at Piccadilly Circus around 8.
On Monday afternoon, I went to Camden Town with T., J. and a girlfriend of hers, E.. We went from café to café, and from shop to shop and had a really good time. I really enjoyed the atmosphere and the crowd there. I think I will go back there more regularly.
I tried on a leather long coat and a kilt but was not sure about either purchase and ended up buying nothing. This is just as well as my six month contract starts this month and I will be without much money until pay day at the end of the month.
Towards the end of the day, we went to Old Compton Street (again!) to meet up with B. and E.’s boyfriend, A., who had been working at a recording studio and were now waiting for us at Bar Italia. On the way I had a glimpse of GSJ was has given up any contact again. He was seated on a terrace at the corner of Frith Street. He seemed to have dyed his hair blond.
I did not stop to talk to him but managed a bright and foolish “hiya” totally out of place since he did not seem to pleased to see me.
Apart form the aborted night on Friday, I had very good time this week end and was feeling a bit down at the idea of going back to work. Next week end might be quite enjoyable too but things can still change.
I really want to try and meet someone now as I am really fed up of being on my own. I have a profile on 3 different Internet sites and hope that someone interesting will finally take notice of me. I have also decided to go to clubs where I am more likely to meet muscley guys. I will go to Peckham’s gym tonight to enquire about their price and will seriously consider joining (I might meet someone there but most of all I do not think I can hope catching a guy like I am dreaming about if I am not more stocky and also I would feel more at ease with myself and more confidant if I like the way I look).
Bonjour,
ReplyDeleteI do not wish to sound negative but could you please explain your reasons for this ongoing trip down memory lane? Was your life more enjoyable back in 2002? If not, do you think that dwelling on the past in such a way will unlock the key to a more fulfilling future?
All the best.
Salut,
ReplyDeleteI would suggest a read of the first post of the series which, incidentally is about to finish (one last post coming up very soon)
I hope this helps.